


Know Your Place

by SuperWhoLock_12



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Evil Sam Winchester, F/M, M/M, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLock_12/pseuds/SuperWhoLock_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm sorry, you want me to do <i>what?”</i> you sputtered into the phone. “Are you insane? I like my organs <i>inside</i> my skin, Dean Winchester!”</p><p>"I know, Y/N, but he won't be expecting you to help,” Dean responded pleadingly. “He's looking for me, and I can't stay in one place long enough to do any kind of research!”</p><p>You sighed, rubbing your forehead. It was common knowledge that Sam Winchester had gone wildly, violently off the reservation, and that he was dropping bodies while hunting his brother down, but no one really knew why. What they did know was that Sam took exception to anyone helping his brother, usually by way of violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finished my Master's degree! Have some smut to celebrate with me!

“I'm sorry, you want me to do _what?”_ you sputtered into the phone. “Are you insane? I like my organs _inside_ my skin, Dean Winchester!” 

“I know, Y/N, but he won't be expecting you to help,” Dean responded pleadingly. “He's looking for me, and I can't stay in one place long enough to do any kind of research!”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. It was common knowledge that Sam Winchester had gone wildly, violently off the reservation, and that he was dropping bodies while hunting his brother down, but no one really knew why. What they did know was that Sam took exception to anyone helping his brother, usually by way of violence.“Dean, what the hell is going on? I'm going to need a little more information than 'Sam's gone batshit' to be of any help.” 

You were a paranormal researcher – a fairly well-known one, especially in the hunter community, and your specialty was unusual magic. However, you certainly didn't hunt, although you could shoot a gun and knew some basic hand-to-hand fighting skills. Most of your work was done via phone or email, and you were based out of Georgia. You'd worked with the Winchesters years before, on a case involving witches out in South Dakota, and your main contact had been Sam. The boys had visited you in Atlanta once as well, spending some time with a unique book in your collection. You and Sam had actually had a short fling, researching magic during the day and enjoying each others' bodies at night, parting on amiable terms when he and Dean left.

Now, though, it was Dean who was calling you, begging for help on discovering why Sam had suddenly lost his mind.

There was hesitation on the other end of the line, then Dean said slowly, “Well, me and Cas think that he's lost his soul again.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Sam's lost his _soul?_ How do you lose your _soul?_ Hell, apparently he's done it more than once!”

“Well, the first time it was a botched resurrection,” Dean responded. “This time, I don't know. That's why I'm calling you!”

You took a deep breath. _Okay. This is no weirder than demons, right?_ “Okay. I'll do some research, Dean, but if I get an inkling that your brother's within three states, I'm burning everything and running. Got it?”

“I wouldn't ask you to do anything else,” Dean said, sounding relieved. “Look, you can call me back at this number, and I'll check in every once in a while.”

“Okay.”

“Sounds good.” There was a click as the call disconnected, and you sighed as the screen of your phone went dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two weeks later, you and Dean were incredibly frustrated. At first, there had been several promising leads, but all of them petered out with a few more days' research.

As you sat with your nose buried in yet another ancient tome, your phone buzzed with a news alert. You'd set it up to notify you of murders that might be related to Sam Winchester, and so far, all of them had been in the Midwest. Picking up your phone, you yawned and opened the notification, expecting yet another body to have been found in Ohio. Instead, the headline read, “Third Body With Signs of Torture Found in Alabama – Serial Killer On the Loose?”

 _Shit! Fuckfuckfuck time to run._ You texted Dean, letting him know you were leaving Atlanta, before you grabbed a quick bag of essentials and sprinted out the door. Hopping in your car, you got on the highway heading north and drove like a bat out of hell.

Ten hours later, you were settling into a motel in Rosedale, MD. The adrenaline rush had worn off somewhere in Washington DC, and you'd been fighting sleep the rest of the way to the motel. Once you'd dropped your bag on the bed closest to the door and checked the sheets for suspicious stains, you realized you were hungry - starving, in fact, since you hadn't stopped to eat on your wild flight from Atlanta. Grabbing your phone and purse and locking the door behind you, you headed out to see what Rosedale had to offer in terms of food.

When you came back, pleasantly full of delicious Chinese food, you unlocked the door to the darkened motel room and flicked on the lights. As you turned to close the door, it slammed shut with a huge hand planted in the center of it.

Sam Winchester stood behind the door, a cruel smile on his face. “Hello, Y/N,” he purred. “I hear you've been working with my brother.”

You turned and ran towards the bed, hoping to reach the gun you had stashed in your duffel, but you were brought up short by a hand around your wrist. Sam jerked you towards him, wrapping an arm around your waist and pinning your back against his hard chest. You drove an elbow into his gut and kicked at his shins, trying to make him loosen his grip, but your attempts at escape just made him laugh.

Eventually, Sam tired of your struggles and tightened his hand on your wrist until the bones ground together, making you gasp in pain and go limp against him. He didn't say anything, but released your arm and slowly moved his hand up to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat. He squeezed, cutting off your air, and your hands scrabbled at his wrist. He was too strong, though, and your vision went black as you passed out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When you woke up, your throat was on fire. You slowly blinked your eyes open, seeing an unfamiliar ceiling, and couldn't quite remember where you were.

“And Sleeping Beauty awakens,” came a deep voice from beside the bed, and everything came flashing back. You tried to roll over, to get away from the smirking man lounging in a chair next to the bed, but your arms were tied firmly to the headboard. You pulled at the ropes, twisting your wrists and yanking against the restraints, but Sam Winchester knew his knots, and you weren't going anywhere.

As you subsided, panting, you realized that all you were wearing was your bra and underwear. You looked at Sam and realized that his eyes were running greedily over your flushed body, and suppressed a shudder. The only weapons you had were words and bravado, so you decided to use both.

“Nice,” you sneered. “Can you only get laid if you tie the girl up first?”

Sam chuckled and reached over, spreading his hand across your stomach. “You've been working with Dean, Y/N, and I don't like that. I think you need to learn your place.”

“You don't own me,” you spat. “We spent a week together, and now you think you have some sort of claim on who I work with?”

“I do when it's my brother,” he growled. “I thought I'd made it clear that no one was to help Dean.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck you, Winchester.”

Sam slapped you hard across the face, and you gasped as you saw stars. “As much as I like your mouth,” he drawled, “I prefer it doing things other than talking.”

 _Ah, shit._ You had a pretty good idea where this was going.

When Sam grabbed a needleless syringe full of a pale yellow liquid off the bedside table, though, you frowned in confusion. “What the hell is that?”

“This?” Sam squinted at the little glass tube, flicking his finger against it a few times. “This is incubus venom.”

 _Oh, no. Oh God, please no._ Not only was he going to rape you, he was going to make you beg for it.

“Now,” Sam continued, “I know exactly where Dean is, and I know he won't be going anywhere for a few days. So, Y/N, I have some time to enjoy this.”

You clamped your jaw shut as he approached the bed. Incubus venom had to be ingested orally, so if you could just keep your mouth shut - 

Sam sighed and pinched your nose, cutting off your air. Finally, you gave into the demands of your lungs and opened your mouth, greedily sucking in air, and he forced the syringe between your teeth and depressed the plunger.

You coughed on the sweet liquid, trying not to swallow it, but it was a losing battle, and the venom dripped down your throat. Sam sat back, an expectant look on his face, and you waited in dread for the magic to start working.

After a few minutes, you felt a rush of warmth in your belly, and you gasped as arousal ripped through you. Suddenly, you were soaking wet and dying for fingers on your clit, or a cock in your mouth, or anything to just make you feel less empty.

Sam gave a satisfied laugh from beside the bed, and you turned your head towards him, jerking at your bonds. You could see his erection through his jeans, and if you could just get your hands on it, get it inside you, you'd feel so much better and this awful burning emptiness would stop - 

_No._ You gritted your teeth and forced back the unreasoning arousal, refusing to give Sam the pleasure of hearing you beg for his dick. You slowly forced your muscles to relax, trying to ignore the pounding throb between your legs, and stared at the ceiling instead of Sam.

“Are you – are you _fighting_ it?” Sam said, amusement in his voice. “Oh, Y/N, you have to know how pointless that is!”

Yeah, you knew. Incubus venom was only effective on women but it lasted about four days, longer if you were particularly unlucky, and by the third or fourth hour after ingestion, almost all victims would do anything for sex. Penetration, to be exact; a cock in your mouth, your ass, or your pussy would all ease the effects, although only an orgasm would stop them completely for a time. Succubus venom had a similar effect on men, except they would be dying to be the one doing the penetrating.

You gasped as the throbbing increased, and you felt the mattress shift as Sam climbed onto the bed. “Don't you fucking touch me,” you snarled, and Sam chuckled.

"It's so cute how you think you won't be begging me in a few minutes.” He grabbed his knife off the bedside table, and you clamped your eyes shut.

You felt cold metal against your chest, and you knew Sam was sliding his knife underneath the center of your bra, then pulling it sharply upward to slice between the cups. The lace barely covered your breasts once the fabric separated, and Sam used the point of his blade to flick the material to the side. Your chest heaved as the point of the knife circled your nipple, and you cursed the thrill of heat that flashed from the blade to between your thighs.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Y/N, unless you want me to slice it off,” Sam said threateningly, and you reluctantly opened your eyes and met his empty gaze. He quickly sliced the straps on your shoulders, then yanked the ruined fabric away and flung it on the floor. Next, he turned his attention to your underwear, hooking his fingers into the waistband and slowly pulling them over your hips. You clamped your thighs together, trying to prevent him from dragging them down any further, but he simply forced your legs apart and jerked the garment off.

 _Right. That's it._ You rolled suddenly to the side and jerked your knee up, catching Sam in the stomach and forcing the breath out of him in a rush. As he folded over in pain, he dropped the knife, and you kicked it up the bed towards your hands. You managed to get your fingers around the hilt and began sawing at the ropes, gritting your teeth as your wrist bent at an odd angle. Fortunately, there was only one strand of rope to get through, and you managed to free yourself and grab your gun out of your bag before Sam recovered.

“Don't move,” you ordered, cocking the gun as Sam shifted on the bed.

“Go ahead,” he said softly. “Shoot me.” He stood up in one smooth movement, watching you like a cat watches a mouse. He started moving towards you, and you backed away, knees trembling from arousal. He was beautiful, all hard muscle and long legs, even with his clothes still on, and you had to fight hard to keep from dropping the gun and crawling to him.

“Stop moving,” you said, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “Stop!” He kept coming, a small smile on his face, and you backed up until you hit a wall. Finally, with no other choice, you aimed at his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

You stared at the gun in shock. You always kept your weapons loaded and in good condition, so why the hell hadn't it gone off?

When Sam reached you, you kept your grip on the gun as he pinned you against the wall. “I unloaded it while you were passed out,” he hissed in your ear. “I certainly wasn't going to give you the chance to shoot me.”

“You've forgotten something,” you whispered.

“What's that?” Sam said, pressing his body against yours. You could feel his erection digging into your belly, and you took a deep breath, forcing back the urge to fall to your knees and swallow his cock to the root.

"A gun doesn't have to be loaded to be a weapon.” You brought the pistol up and slammed it into the side of his head, breaking away as he staggered back. You bolted for the door, but just as you reached for the doorknob, a hand tangled in your hair and jerked you backwards.

You yelled as Sam dragged you towards the bed, clawing at the hand in your hair and trying to hit him with the gun again, but your breath rushed out of you as he flung you onto the mattress. He pried the gun out of your fingers and tossed it across the room, wrestling your hands above your head. You kept fighting him, scratching and kicking and biting, until he casually backhanded you across the face. The blow stunned you, and you went limp in a daze as he secured your hands to the headboard again.

Breathing hard, Sam straddled your hips and glared down at you. “Try anything like that again,” he threatened, “and I'll start breaking bones. Understand?” You looked at the ceiling, ignoring the furious man on top of you, until he grabbed your face and forced you to look at him. “Understand?” he repeated, and you gave a reluctant nod. “Good girl,” he said with a smirk, then sat back onto your thighs and began unbuttoning his shirt. You averted your eyes, staring at the wall next to the bed, and tried to ignore Sam as he got up and finished stripping.

When all his clothes had been tossed haphazardly onto the floor, Sam climbed back onto the bed and spread himself out on top of you, pinning you to the mattress with his body. “Now, where were we?” he said, kissing and nipping at your neck. “Oh, yeah.” He slid a hand between your legs, ignoring your attempts to keep your thighs together, and ran a finger down your sex. “Oh, Y/N, you are soaking wet.”

“Of course I am,” you snapped, even as your hips bucked into his touch. “You fucking drugged me!”

When Sam's eyes darkened and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile, you had a feeling you'd made a terrible mistake. “If you can still mouth off,” he said softly. “I'm not doing my job. Let's see what we can do about that.” Without further ado, he ducked his head and began licking at your nipple, laving his soft tongue over it until it hardened. He repeated the procedure on the other nipple, sucking until it was a taut pink nub, then began kissing his way down your stomach as you squirmed under him.

When he licked a long stripe up your pussy, your eyes sprang open and you squeaked in surprise. Sam chuckled, the sound vibrating through the sensitive flesh, and you gasped as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “You still want me to stop?” he said slyly. _No please God don't stop I need_ – You took a deep breath and gathered your self-control.

 _I do NOT want this._ “Yes, I still want you to stop,” you said, voice shaking just a bit.

Sam pulled back and stared at you, then abruptly moved off the bed to lounge in the desk chair. “Fine,” he said simply. “Let me know when you want me to start again.”

An hour later, you were covered in sweat and trembling as Sam's hungry eyes roamed over your nude body. The venom-induced arousal had reached a fever pitch, and it was only through sheer stubbornness that you hadn't snapped and begged him to fuck you yet. When his deep voice broke the tense silence, you jumped and looked over at him, tugging already-raw wrists against your bonds.

“Y/N, I could make you feel so good,” he purred, running his hand over his erection. “I know you need something inside of you, something to fill you up and stop the awful aching. My cock is so thick and hard, you know it would make you feel so much better.”

“Go to hell,” you forced out between gritted teeth.

Sam smirked. “You know you're just making this harder on yourself, Y/N. The longer you wait to beg me to fuck you, the longer I'm going to make you wait to come.”

You didn't trust yourself to speak, instead biting back a whimper as you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the throb between your legs. You jerked mindlessly at the ropes tying you to the headboard, instinctively trying to free your arms so you could touch yourself, even though intellectually you knew it wouldn't help if you did.

Then the bastard started talking again. “Come on, Y/N, I know you want my dick. Just let me hear you say it, and I'll fuck you so well you'll see stars. I'm the only one who can make you feel better, you know I am, so why don't you -”

It was too much. His voice and the sight of him stroking his cock, combined with the awful throbbing arousal from the incubus venom, made you snap. “Please!” you sobbed. “Please, Sam! I need it!”

He moved so fast you barely saw him, going from sprawling in the chair to pinning you to the bed before you could blink. He nipped and bit at your neck as he groped your breasts, and everywhere your skin touched his you felt sparks. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to urge him into your aching pussy, but he was immovable.

“Not just yet,” he whispered into your ear. “You made me wait an hour, so I think I'll make you wait too.”

You whined and tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to wait any longer. “Please, Sam, I'm sorry, I need you, I can't wait any more, please just fuck me!”

He ignored your pathetic pleas, instead straddling your chest and grabbing the headboard, leaving his hard cock bobbing in front of your face. Suddenly, your mouth started watering and the thought of having that dick down your throat was the most appealing thing you could think of. You strained your neck forward to lick at the head, then fell back in disappointment as Sam inched his hips backward.

“Come on,” he growled. “Let me hear you beg again.”

You complied immediately, all thoughts of resistance gone with the sight of that delicious cock in front of your face. “Please let me suck your cock, Sam,” you pleaded breathlessly, twisting in agonized arousal under him.

He laughed and shoved his hips forward, and you opened your mouth and eagerly swallowed him down. As soon as the head of his dick hit the back of your throat, the throbbing between your legs eased a little, and you were able to focus on sucking the hard flesh in your mouth. Sliding your mouth back, holding just the head, you flicked your tongue into the slit and were rewarded by a deep groan from the man above you. Enjoying the taste of the salty pre-come you had just licked away, you dove back down, pressing Sam's cock into your throat and swallowing around it.

"Nnh, fuck, Y/N, forgot how good you are at this,” Sam hissed, pushing his hips forward until his balls were pressed against your chin. You gagged on the hot flesh invading your mouth, but you couldn't get enough, running your tongue along the veins on the underside of his cock and sucking so hard your cheeks hollowed. Sam's hips began to buck, tiny, aborted thrusts that signaled he was getting ready to come, and you eagerly sucked even harder.

Suddenly, the wonderful cock you'd been sucking was no longer in your mouth, and you cried out at the loss as the awful heat began building between your legs again. You pulled against your bonds, straining to reach Sam, trying to get that relief back, but he was out of reach. You whined, kicking your legs and thrashing, but Sam pulled away and began moving back down your body.

“Spread your legs,” he whispered in your ear, and you complied immediately. He settled his hips between your thighs, teasingly rubbing his cock against your entrance, and you sobbed as you pressed your hips up towards him as best you could.

“Please, Sam, God, I need it,” you whimpered as you writhed, unable to think about anything but finally being full.

Sam chuckled lowly and pushed your legs up towards your chest, spreading you open even further, then impaled you in one quick movement. He slid in easily, his quick, hard thrusts making obscenely wet noises, and you panted and moaned under him like a bitch in heat. It was wonderful, it was perfect, but you just needed a little bit _more..._

When Sam reached between your bodies and dragged a fingertip across your clit, you saw stars. That was what you needed, that delicious pressure, right there, but he wasn't giving it to you and you sobbed. “Sam, Sam, _please,_ God, I need to come, please touch me, please make me come, you have to touch me,” you babbled, but he only grinned down at you and kept thrusting, carefully avoiding your clit every time he slammed into you.

When tears began rolling down your cheeks and your pleas took on a decidedly desperate tone, Sam finally took pity on you and began rolling his fingers across the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you shout and arch your back. He kept rubbing, hitting just the right spot, over and over, until finally you wailed and _came,_ legs jerking with the power of your climax. It only took a few more hard thrusts for Sam to come too, cock twitching as the spasms of your pussy walls milked every last drop of come out of him.

When you came down, Sam was pulling out of you and making a face at the mess. “Damn, Y/N, you soaked the sheets,” he mocked, and you blushed bright red in shame. Climax caused a break in the venom's effects, usually about an hour long, and your mind was clearing of the lust-induced fog it had been in for the last two hours.

“Get off me,” you spat, and kicked at Sam ineffectively as he laid over you.

“Fine,” he shrugged, and got up, retreating to the desk chair again. “But you'll be begging again before long.”

You closed your eyes and blocked him out, trying to think of a way to escape before the venom took hold again. You were pondering the pros and cons of trying to break the headboard when you heard your phone ring, and your eyes snapped open in horror. Only one person would be calling you right now.

“Well, look at that,” Sam said brightly as he picked up the phone. “It's my dear big brother.” He slid his finger across the screen. “Hello, Dean.”

You could hear Dean yelling on the other end of the line, but Sam was too far away for you to tell what he was saying. The bastard just sat there, smiling into the phone, until Dean had run out of steam, then said, “Rosedale, MD. Back River Motel, room 238. Be here in two hours. Oh, and Dean? If you want Y/N to keep breathing, leave your guns in the car.”

He hung up, then turned to look at you. “Well, Y/N. Looks like I'm going to have two toys to play with soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd had pieces of this floating around on my computer for ages, and then a friend mentioned that she'd read this and would I PLEASE write some more, so - here. Apparently this is going to be multi-chaptered now.

You'd been aching for what seemed like an eternity. The brief relief from the overwhelming arousal had seemed only to amplify it when it returned, and you'd barely lasted about fifteen minutes from the onset before you were pleading with Sam to touch you again. This time, though, he had ignored you, even putting his jeans back on before sitting down and lazily scrolling through his phone.

“Please, I need -” you tried again.

“Shut up, already,” the tall man said irritatedly, leaning back in his chair.

You managed to stay quiet for a few minutes, but eventually the aphrodisiac racing through you won out and you began to beg again. “Sam, please! I can't stand it, I need -”

With a huff of annoyance, Sam stood up and walked over the bed, pulling a bandana out of his pocket and tying a large knot in the middle. He forced the knot between your teeth and tied it firmly behind your head, effectively silencing your pleas and leaving you able only to moan needily through the gag.

Every slight movement of the air was a caress against your sweat-soaked skin, and the constant thrumming of the venom-induced arousal was going to drive you completely insane if someone didn't touch you. You lost track of the time you spent trying to beg through the fabric in your mouth, the minutes and hours turning into a burning, torturous haze of lust and want, and the silence of the room broken only by your stifled begging.

Finally, after what felt like days, there came a tentative knock. Sam looked up from his phone with a terrifying smile on his face, then shoved his phone in his pocket and strolled lazily over to the door. He opened it to reveal Dean, his fist raised to knock again. “Hello, Dean,” the monster purred. “Welcome to the party. I hope you left your toys at home.”

“Yeah, I did,” Dean spat, then caught sight of you tied to the bed, naked and trembling, and his face twisted in horror. “Sam, you bastard,” he hissed, shouldering past his brother and heading towards you. “What did you do to her?” Before he could reach you, however, Sam had grabbed his wrist and slammed him against the wall, kicking the door shut as he twisted Dean's arm up between his shoulder blades. The shorter man tried to twist out of Sam's hold, but quickly subsided with a soft grunt of pain as Sam jerked his arm up further.

“Now that I have your attention,” Sam said softly, “let me explain something to you. I am in control here. I will decide what does and does not happen in this room, and I will decide when, if ever, either of you leave.” Dean made a furious noise and bucked back, trying to throw Sam off of him, but Sam calmly grabbed his hair and slammed his head into the wall. Dean fell still with a wince, and Sam continued. “As you can probably guess, Dean, I've drugged Y/N with incubus venom. She's absolutely desperate for someone to touch her right now, and the question is: will it be me or you? I think, personally, I'm kind of leaning towards you.”

At the mention of your name, you moaned and pulled futilely at the ropes securing you to the bed. The rough nylon fibers had already rubbed the skin of your wrists raw, but the pain of the abrasions paled to nothing in comparison to the fire that was burning in the pit of your stomach. At the muffled sound, both men turned to look at you; Sam's face was filled with lust and smug satisfaction, but Dean's expression was horrified, guilty, and – was that a touch of arousal?

With the satisfaction on his face radiating into his voice, Sam asked, “So, Dean. Are you gonna fuck her willingly, or am I going to have to make you?”

“I'm not going to _rape_ her, Sam,” Dean spat against the drywall. 

Sam chuckled and shifted Dean's wrist slightly higher, drawing a gasp of pain out of him. “It's not rape if she begs for it.”

“She's out of her mind,” Dean replied through gritted teeth. “She doesn't know what she's begging for, she just wants it to stop - ” He cut himself off when Sam clasped handcuffs onto the wrist being pinned between his shoulder blades, then began to force him towards the second bed. “You bastard, what are you doing?”

“I'm making sure you don't do anything stupid,” Sam said calmly, shoving his brother onto the bed and snapping the other cuff around one of the slats of the headboard in one smooth movement. Dean jerked fruitlessly at his restraints while Sam strolled over to his duffel bag, humming under his breath. He withdrew a vial of a deep blue liquid, which your intoxicated brain vaguely recognized as succubus venom.

Dean must have recognized it too, because he immediately growled, “You come near me with that, Sam, and I'll bite your fingers off.”

“No you won't,” Sam replied confidently, “because you don't want to hurt me, no matter how many people I hurt or kill. We've been through this before, remember?”

Obviously Sam was right, because Dean tried a different tack. “You can't make me swallow it, you know. I won't let you.”

Sam burst out laughing. “That's what she thought, too. You see how well that turned out for her?” With two quick strides, he was at your bedside and jerking the gag out of your mouth.

You swallowed, trying to get enough saliva in your mouth to speak, then immediately began begging again with a thick, raspy voice. “Please, I just need you to touch me, Sam please, why won't you -” Sam shoved the knot of fabric back in your mouth, and your pleas were muffled once more.

“You bastard,” Dean spat again. “Why did you drug her if you won't touch her?”

Sam smiled, a cold, cruel smile that came nowhere near his eyes. “To listen to her beg,” he said softly. “To watch her get more and more desperate until she'll do anything I tell her to.” Dean shuddered, then tore his eyes away from you and back to Sam. “Now,” Sam continued, “you have a couple of choices here. You can fuck her now, no drugs, just you. Alternatively, I can force this venom down your throat and I'll fuck her while I listen to you beg.”

He leaned towards Dean until you could barely hear him, and whispered, “And let me tell you, if I fuck her, there won't be much left when I'm done.” Somewhere deep inside, a tiny part of you gibbered in terror, but the vast majority didn't care as long as someone touched you and made the burning stop.

Sam moved away from Dean and sprawled in the desk chair again. “I'll give you twenty seconds to decide. Twenty...nineteen...”

Dean chewed his bottom lip, and you could see he was thinking furiously, weighing the pros and cons of each choice. Sam's countdown continued, until finally he said, “Three...two...one. Well, I guess it's option B, then.” Just as he reached for the vial of venom, however, Dean burst out,

“I'll do it!” Then, more quietly, he repeated, “I'll do it. Let me up.”

Sam snorted. “Not so fast.” He made his way slowly over to Dean and sat down on the bed. Dean eyed his brother suspiciously and scooted as far away from him as he could get with his hand still cuffed to the bedpost, but Sam only laughed. “I have to make sure you don't have any weapons on you, brother mine, and that's going to require a search. In fact, I think it might be easier to make it a strip search, don't you?” He reached down and pulled Dean's shoes and socks off, tossing them across the room, then began leisurely running his hands up Dean's legs.

Dean finally shook himself out of his shocked silence and choked out, “What the hell, man?! Get your hands off me!”

Sam had unfastened his jeans and was pulling them down. “No, I don't think so,” he replied thoughtfully, jerking the denim over Dean's feet and dropping it to the floor. As Dean thrashed and fought, he climbed up his body until he was sitting on Dean's hips, then shoved the flannel shirt over Dean's shoulder and off his free arm, leaving it twisted around the handcuff. Dean was now wearing, essentially, a gray t-shirt and boxers, and Sam looked at him consideringly.

“Yeah,” Dean said breathlessly still twisting under Sam, “Gonna be hard to get that off without letting me up.” Sam only smiled, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a switch blade. He flicked it open and held it against Dean's throat, and the smaller man immediately froze.

“I suggest you stay very still for this part,” Sam said softly, then slid the knife under the neck of Dean's shirt and jerked. He repeated the process all the way down, then yanked the ruined shirt off Dean's free arm and left it tangled around the handcuff as well. When he reached for the waistband of Dean's boxers, however, Dean started fighting him again.

“I can take those off myself, you perverted asshole,” he hissed, and Sam sat back and looked at him consideringly.

“Fine,” he said finally, then climbed off Dean's bed and unlocked the handcuff. Dean sat up slowly, disentangling himself from the remnants of his clothes. He eyed Sam warily as he stood up, making his way across the narrow distance between the beds to you, and sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said soothingly, carefully removing the spit-soaked bandana from your mouth. “How're you holding up?” You whimpered wordlessly and thrust your hips up into the air, seeking friction, any friction at all, and Dean's face softened. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I'm gonna take care of you, all right?”

You nodded, looking at him pleadingly, and he lowered himself down on top of you. Holding your face between his calloused hands, he placed a chaste kiss on your lips that very swiftly became raw and needy, your whimpers and whines disappearing into his mouth as he slid his tongue against yours. After a few minutes, though, the brief relief given by the kiss faded and the burning in your core began anew. You broke the kiss with a gasp and pleaded, “Please, Dean, I need you,” grinding up against the hard cock you could feel through his thin boxers.

Dean smiled warmly down at you, his expression completely different from Sam's, who had moved back to the desk chair and was stroking himself through his jeans. Your eyes flickered up and met his cold hazel ones briefly before you returned your attention to Dean, who was now nuzzling at your breast. You tried to relax, to let Dean make this good for you as he was trying to obviously to do, but the venom in your body wouldn't let you. You had to have his cock now, or you were going to explode with fire and lust and need. You bucked your hips and whined, “Please, I need you to fuck me, I can't take it anymore, it hurts!”

Dean sighed softly, then raised up and met your eyes. “Can I eat you out instead, Y/N? Will that help?” You were beyond words again, shaking and crying, so he seemed to take that as an affirmative and began to slide down your body. Before he reached his destination, however, Sam's sharp voice cut in.

“You heard the girl, Dean. She wants you to fuck her, not go down on her.” Dean turned to face his brother with an angry expression, but the furious words obviously on the tip of his tongue died away when he saw Sam fiddling with the vial of blue liquid. Dean swallowed, hard, then climbed off the bed and quickly stepped out of his boxers. He went to drape himself over you again, then paused.

“Sam,” you could tell he was trying his best to be submissive, not to anger the monster using the two of you as his playthings, “can I – can I untie her? I don't think she's going to go anywhere.”

Sam frowned for a moment, then gestured magnanimously. “Sure, why not,” he said. “I only wanted her to stay put while the drugs kicked in.” Dean nodded, then turned back around and reached for the ropes securing your hands to the headboard. Before he could do more than touch them, though, Sam coughed expectantly. “What do you say, Dean?”

Dean closed his eyes, and you could see him grind his teeth. “Thank you,” he forced out, and Sam sat back, satisfied. Dean exhaled slowly and reached for your restraints again, this time deftly untying the knots that kept you stationary on the bed.

As soon as your wrists were released, you reached up and dragged Dean down on top of you, ignoring his startled grunt as you wrapped your legs around his waist and tried to pull him into you. “Come on,” you pleaded, tugging harder at him. “Please, I need it so bad!” He was still hesitating, and you didn't understand why. Didn't he get that you were burning, on fire, and that the pain and awful empty feeling wouldn't stop until he shoved his thick cock into your pussy and fucked it away?

You whined and bucked your hips up again, and heard Sam chuckle from his chair. “What's the matter, Dean? She's begging you for it. You'd better hurry up and give it to her.” His voice darkened suddenly. “Before I get impatient and do it myself.”

“Okay, okay, you psychopath,” Dean muttered, then winced as Sam's hand fisted in his hair and jerked his head up. You hadn't even seen Sam move, he'd been so fast, and he glared down at Dean now with fury in his eyes.

“If you piss me off one more time,” the tall man said softly, “I'll cuff you to that bed and make you watch while I fuck her till she bleeds. Do you understand me?” When there was no immediate response from Dean, Sam jerked harder on his hair and repeated the question.

Dean finally groaned in pain and forced out, “Yes! Yes, I understand,” and Sam let go of his hair and returned to the chair.

You'd instinctively recognized that interrupting this little drama would be bad for your health and had managed to stay quiet, but that hadn't stopped the burning emptiness from building inside you. When Dean finally looked down at you, there were tears rolling down your cheeks as you bit your lower lip, trying not to sob with need. When he saw your pathetic expression, his face softened and he leaned down and kissed you gently. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, “I'll fix it.” He grasped your waist and flipped you over, leaving you straddling his hips, and smiled encouragingly.

You needed no further permission, and without any hesitation, you sank down on his cock. You threw your head back and gasped as the feeling of emptiness was finally assuaged, before planting your hands on his chest as leverage and beginning a quick, harsh pace that was pushing you towards orgasm at a rapid rate. You could practically feel Sam's displeasure radiating from behind you; clearly he hadn't meant for Dean to let you take control like that, but since he hadn't said anything, you continued chasing the relief that climax promised.

The pleasure had built in the pit of your stomach, spiraling towards a peak that was just frustratingly out of reach. You moved faster and faster, grinding yourself down against Dean's pelvis with each thrust, but it wasn't working. You couldn't quite get there, no matter how fast or hard you moved, and the frustration made tears well up in your eyes again. You looked at Dean pleadingly, and saw a different, but similar, desperation on his face. “Y/N,” he gasped, “what do you need? I want to make sure – _nnng fuck_ – you feel better before I - ”

“I need to come,” you sobbed. “I need to come and I can't and it hurts and I don't - ”

“Shh, shh,” Dean soothed as his hand slid towards the joining of your bodies and immediately found your clit. You inhaled sharply and threw your head back, chasing that elusive peak that seemed further and further out of reach even as his talented fingers danced over the sensitive nub. 

Suddenly, the orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, and your vision went black as every muscle in your body locked. You shuddered silently atop Dean, digging your fingernails into his chest to ground yourself as you rode it out.

When you came down, your head beginning to clear from the effects of the venom, you realized Dean lay unmoving underneath you with his eyes closed. He was still rock-hard inside of you, and you looked at him inquisitively. _Why hasn't he come?_ Then you realized – he thought he was raping you, and had stopped the minute you weren't begging him to continue.

 _This is not his fault,_ you thought fiercely, _it's that bastard behind us who did this, and Dean is not going to suffer because of him._ You began rising and falling again, more gently this time, and Dean's eyes popped open in shock.

“Y/N, what are you - ” he started, but you leaned down and put a finger to his lips as you intentionally tightened your walls around his cock. He threw his head back and groaned, “Fuck, that's – that's amazing, how are you even – holy shit – _fuck,_ I'm gonna - ” He grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto his cock, keeping you pinned against him as he emptied himself into you.

When you felt his cock slowly stop twitching and his body relax, you lifted up off of him and rolled to the side, automatically cuddling up under his arm. Dean sighed and wrapped that arm around you, holding you to him, and you pressed yourself against his side and closed your eyes.

They immediately popped open again when a sarcastic voice said, “Well, isn't that just adorable.” You looked up at Sam warily, and Dean protectively pulled you even closer. The tall hunter got up from his chair and stretched, his erection tenting the front of his jeans obscenely, then dropped his arms to his sides and looked at the two of you speculatively.

“Now,” he said, “I need to get off too, and I'm not really feeling sloppy seconds. So Dean, I'm gonna get you to move your pretty ass to the other bed and get on your hands and knees.”

“Are you – you're serious,” Dean said in shock. “Dude, that's sick! I'm your fucking brother, man, that's just wrong!”

Sam shrugged. “Don't really care. I suggest you get a move on before I decide to take out my frustration on Y/N here.”

Dean still didn't move, obviously in shock, and Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, I'll make it easier on you and give you a choice. Either you can get on this bed and take my dick up the ass, or you can blow me. But pick one, and pick it fast, because I'm getting impatient.”

When Dean remained frozen, Sam sighed and picked up the vial of blue succubus venom. The sight jarred Dean into action, saying quickly, “I'll blow you. Just don't – don't use that on me.”

Sam grinned and gestured towards his crotch. “Come on then, what are you waiting for?” Dean swallowed hard and moved off the bed, kneeling at his brother's feet and tentatively moving his hands to the button of Sam's jeans. He took a deep breath and unfastened them, pulling the zipper down and releasing Sam's dick from its denim prison. It was big, bigger than Dean's from what you could see, and Dean hesitated.

Sam huffed in frustration and tangled his hands in Dean's hair. “Open up and suck,” he said impatiently. “Your mouth's too pretty to be wasted on talking, so do something useful with it. And if I feel teeth, Y/N will be the one who suffers, got it?” Dean swallowed again and leaned forward to lick at the head of Sam's dick, which was flushed red and leaking pre-come.

His patience clearly exhausted, Sam jerked Dean's head forward and shoved his cock into Dean's throat. Dean gagged and choked, his eyes watering, but managed to close his mouth around the hard flesh in his mouth and suck. Eventually, he got into the rhythm of it, and Sam stopped forcing his head up and down and started talking instead. 

“Fuck, big brother, you're so good at this, no way this is your first time having a dick in your mouth. You love having my cock d-down your throat, don't you, you fucking whore, I bet you go out begging for guys to let you – _jususchristhatsgood_ – suck their dicks - ” Dean blushed and sucked harder, obviously trying to get Sam to shut up, but he wouldn't. “God, I knew your mouth had to be good for something other than stuffing your face and – _shit_ – making s-smart-ass c-comments and – _oh fuck_ \- ”

Sam jerked Dean's head forward, ignoring his brother's gagging, and hissed as he thrust once, twice, then came down Dean's throat. He made one more lazy thrust, then withdrew, still holding Dean's hair. “Swallow,” he ordered, and Dean closed his mouth and obeyed, his face red with shame. “Good boy,” Sam smirked, then shoved him away. “Get back on the bed.”

Dean climbed back up next to you and buried his scarlet face in the pillows. Your mind was still clear, the incubus venom not having taken effect again yet, and so you rubbed his back and whispered soothing nonsense until the subtle shaking of his shoulders had eased. You turned and leveled a glare at Sam, one that could have melted steel, but the asshole just laughed at you. “I suggest you and Dean take a nap while you can,” he said, “because this isn't anywhere near over.”


End file.
